


Ball and Chain

by abstractconcept



Series: The Epic of Porn [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chan, Filth, Humor, M/M, PWP, Underage - Freeform, snarody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 10:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: Because there are a lot of people that would be better off with some good old fashioned discipline.





	Ball and Chain

**Author's Note:**

> BETA: My fantablicious best mate SHADOWPHOENIX (of Fine Lines fame) beta’d this for me, and you should all worship at her feet accordingly.
> 
> Note: I'm still importing. I didn't even have time to read this, so please forgive any mistakes or mis-tagging.

Snape grabbed the boy around his still-wet middle and hauled him bodily out of the room. “Sev! What are you _doing?_ ” Harry gasped, eyes wide.

“Dragging you back to the bedroom in order to tie you up and have my nasty way with you, obviously,” Snape retorted. “And if you ever shorten my name in such a fashion again, so help me, I will gut you like a fish and use your innards for my potion stores.”

Harry wriggled, not unhappily. “Your stores, huh? I didn’t realize you needed ‘Intestine of Magnificent Young Stud’ for any of your potions.”

Snape tossed him face down on the bed and covered Harry’s body with his own, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the youth’s cheek. “I don’t,” he replied with some satisfaction. “The magical properties of ‘Various Organs of Scrawny Young Virgin Hero,’ on the other hand, are well known and extremely useful.”

 Harry tried to buck him off, grunting, “Hey! Who are you calling ‘scrawny?’ Greasy old bat.”

“Not so greasy at the moment,” Severus replied with a smirk. “And I shouldn’t do that, were I you, Mister Potter—the bucking, I mean. It’s somewhat obscene, and terribly arousing.”

“I can’t believe you’re even hard again,” Harry taunted. “I just sucked you off less than an hour ago. I thought old men like you were lucky if they could get it up once a week—Ow! You berk, that hurt.”

“It was fully justified,” Snape returned. “And for your information,” he continued, grabbing one of Harry’s wrists and waving his wand to produce a manacle around it, “I would have no difficulty whatsoever in retaining an erection throughout the evening, unlike some rather more _premature performers_ I could name.”

“Very funny! Anyway, I’ll bet half the reason you’re full mast now is that _I’m_ here; you probably get stiff all the time thinking about me.”

 “Potter,” Snape growled in a threatening tone, attaching another manacle.

 “I knew it! And every time I bent over to pick up my book bag, your eyes were glued to my arse, weren’t they? Admit it! You _fancied_ me. I’ll bet when I sat in class staring at you, running the feather of my quill across my lips, it got you in a right state, didn’t it?”

 “ _Potter…_ ” Now Snape was starting on his legs, one ankle at a time.

 “I bet when I fluttered my eyelashes at you and ran my tongue over my teeth, it was all you could do to keep from throwing me across your desk and buggering me, right then and there!”

 “POTTER!”

 Harry flinched, and looked up at the man questioningly. He seemed to be tied spread-eagle on the bed, although the manacles did not appear to be attached to anything. “Er. Sir?” he responded.

 The man’s face was red, and he was giving Harry that look he reserved for the times when a student did something particularly foolish and warranted being burnt to a crisp. His hands were clenched at his sides. In short, Snape looked very, very angry. “Yes,” he finally said tightly, between clenched jaws.

 Harry had already lost the thread of the conversation, and was amusing himself by testing the strength of the bonds. “Yes, what?” he queried.

"Yes, I blasted well did! I’d have buggered you at least a hundred times this year, had I been given the opportunity. I came _this close_ to kidnapping you from the locker rooms after the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, trussing you up, and tossing you on the back of a carpet headed to Nigeria, where I’d have kept you as my own one-man harem, forcing you to fulfil my every sexual fantasy! I wanked off to images of you and your far-too-enticing body after class! And I didn’t even _know_ you were fluttering your eyelashes at me; I thought you’d got something in your eye! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”

 Harry lie strapped to the enormous black bed, completely stunned. “You did? You would’ve? You _liked me_?”

 “What? _No!_ I—I found you sexually attractive, that’s all!” Snape held his hands up defensively, which did not counter the force of Harry’s brilliant smile.

 “You did! You _liked_ me! All year? Merlin’s beard—you did! You _fancied me!_ But Snape, that’s fantastic. Splendid! And now I like you, as well. Isn’t it perfect?”

 Snape rolled his eyes in the face of that shining grin, coupled so exasperatingly with adoring eyes. “Do _not_ make me hurt you, Potter.”

 “What?” Harry asked guilelessly. “I won’t do anything _that_ bad.” He waited until the man’s shoulders seemed to relax a little before adding, “I’ll just move down here with you, and paint the dungeon walls in lovely pastels, and you can spend sweet picnic lunches with me, and we can double in Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, and I can cuddle you, follow you about, and call you my snugoo-bat.”

Snape looked more and more horrified throughout the recitation, until Harry was almost certain the man was about to bolt the room, leaving him helpless and chained to the bed.

He managed to keep a straight face until the Potions Master emitted a low whimper, at which point he burst out laughing. “God! You should see yourself! No, your _classes_ should see you. They’d pay good money for that. Where’s the camera? You got your picture; now it’s my turn!”

“Most amusing, Mister Potter,” Severus said in a voice which indicated it was anything but.  “Now, if you’ve finished with _your_ jokes, I believe it’s time for _mine_.”

Harry abruptly stopped laughing. “What?”

Smiling enigmatically, Severus glided over to his dresser, where he opened the top drawer and rummaged through it. After a few moments of shuffling and muttering, the man turned with a triumphantly arched brow. He held up one of those slim, artist’s hands, where two fingers pinched the handle of a long, white-feathered quill. “I believed you mentioned something about running a quill over your lips, earlier?”

Harry looked at it with some trepidation. “Er…yeah. Yeah, I may have said something like that. Er. To draw attention to my mouth, you know,” he added conversationally, trying not to squirm too much, every nerve aware of wanting to scoot away from that plumed instrument of torture.

“Let’s experiment with that, and go from there, shall we?” With a sweet smile, (much more frightening than any glare he’d given) Severus leaned over and brushed the edges of the quill across Harry’s lips.

Harry sighed, his breath blowing the feathers hither and thither. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. He shivered when Snape’s lips followed the path of the feathers, skimming like a whisper across his own.

“Enjoying yourself, Potter?”

“Oh,” Harry breathed, eyes dropping shut. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, good,” Snape purred. “How I always hoped and prayed to hear that.”

Harry’s eyes were still shut, but his brows drew together. Was that sarcasm? He felt a ghostly pressure move down his naked chest, where it circled a nipple. Harry let loose a strangled whimper. Definitely sarcasm. Snape’s slightly evil chuckle made Harry’s stomach contract in an odd, excited way. The cool touch of the feathers played with one nipple, then the other, before slipping down to Harry’s bellybutton. When Snape apparently got bored with watching Harry shift and snicker from this, he moved the insidious instrument of torture up to one of Harry’s arms.

Snape was having the time of his life. There were certain things one missed when giving up life as a Death Eater, and this kind of absolute control was one of them. To have someone at his mercy, to beg and plead and twist against his bonds…to have someone to hurt, to please, to tickle without relent. He could feel the wicked sneer that crept across his face. He dragged the shaft end of the quill, with its sharp, jagged point, down Potter’s arm, watching the lovely, lean-cut bicep jump and twitch beneath the skin. A white line of torn skin followed in its wake, but he took little notice. Until the brat cried out,  he would remain outwardly unimpressed by whatever damage was produced. _Love and war, eh, Severus?_ A little voice in his head piped up snidely, and he tried to ignore it.

Harry held his breath and the quill flipped and turned feather-side down once more, and began dipping into the hollow of his throat. It then traced his Adam’s apple, brushed along the line of his jaw, and followed the curve of his ear. That was exactly how long it took him to start trying to squiggle his body away, giggling like a demented schoolboy. He still had his eyes shut, which is why he missed the lifting of Snape’s lip, and the way the man’s eyes flashed maliciously. The feather then made its way down his body, stopping here and there when it found a promising spot, such as (of course) his armpit, the concave under his lowest ribs, and the indentation where hip met thigh.

Severus liked this spot. He kept the quill there for some time, until Harry was convulsing, crying, and shrieking with laughter. He didn’t cease until the boy began begging again, promising outlandish sexual favours in return. He let Harry rest for a little while afterward, smiling smugly at that scowling, sniffling, but still grinning face.

 “You,” Harry declared, “Are absolutely evil.”

 Snape beamed. “Thank you for noticing.” He began working the quill between the young man’s thighs, and stared and the strong young legs began moving in response, muscles bunching and stretching. “Mmm. It’s hardly my fault that you’re ticklish, Potter,” he noted, even as he drew the quill up to gently touch Harry’s balls. The boy’s body leapt at that, and Snape knew that even Harry no longer knew if he wanted Snape to stop. He pressed more firmly against the flushed skin, and moved up to the youth’s penis, which was firm and eagerly trembling for more.

 “Please, no more tickling,” Harry begged, eyes huge and pleading behind his glasses. “God, _please_ , Severus.”

 Severus scowled when he realized he was capitulating for the sake of those eyes. He looked contemplatively back towards Harry’s swollen prick, and casually dipped the quill in the slit, running it through the dribbling pre-come. He began using this to draw a design on the lovely sculpted cock, arcane symbols sinking into Harry’s throbbing member. “Have you ever heard of a penis ring, Potter?” he asked conversationally, consoling himself in the fact that there were many ways to amuse himself with the boy, and they didn’t all have to involve feathers.

 “Er…no, sir,” Harry replied honestly.

 Severus had thought not. It was a Muggle device, not typically needed in the Wizarding world, where potions and charms could do the same thing. But fun was fun, and it was Severus’s turn to choose the kink. “Since you seem to have some difficulty restraining yourself, I feel we might benefit from a device which would do it for you.” He flashed his teeth at Harry, then finished autographing the boy’s needy prick with a flourish.

With a strange hissing sound, a green ribbon appeared and wound its way up Harry’s cock and down around his balls. Tying itself off efficiently, it constricted gently, causing the gaping youth to gasp. “Snape! What the _hell?_ ” 

Snape laughed. “The only thing better than having you tied to my bed in order to service me sexually, Potter,” he announced, “Is seeing you tied to my bed, ready to service me sexually, wrapped in a lovely Slytherin bow. It’s Christmas come early, isn’t it?”

Harry couldn’t help a bit of a chagrined smile. Snape was so rarely pleased, and to be the source of that pleasure, rather than an eternal fount of annoyance, was really rather nice.

With a tap of Severus’s wand, Harry was suddenly suspended in midair, upside down. He gave an incoherent squeak, but when he didn’t land on his head, calmed down. Snape came closer to him, sliding his wonderful hands up and down Harry’s calves before parting the boy’s legs. “If you ever mention it to anyone, I’ll categorically deny it and have you Obliviated,” the man told him, “But you have a surprisingly beautiful body, Potter, and a very tasty little arse. I’m going to take a great deal of pleasure in deflowering you.”

Harry sighed. It was annoying that a lot of his blood was now rushing to the wrong head, but the ribbon around his prick squeezed and slithered, keeping him on the far side of randy. When the man crawled across the bed, pulling him down a little, Harry was within reach of Severus’s delicious cock again, and reached out happily. “I think I’ll enjoy being deflowered,” he admitted.

Snape froze. “Do you mean to say that you are honestly a virgin?” he demanded, pausing in his prodding exploration of the Eden before him.

“Well, yes. I assumed you knew that when you mentioned deflow—ow! You pillock! Why’d you drop me?” He sat up, rubbing his head, and scooped up his glasses from where they’d dropped when he’d first been turned wrong side up. He glanced at his wrist. “And why’d you take the spell off that kept me where you wanted me? I was just getting keen on it.”

Snape was staring at him. “You’re a virgin?”

Harry shifted uneasily. “So? You’ve been making jokes about it all night. I thought you knew.” When Snape looked like he was about to speak, Harry cut him off. “I don’t have to be, you know. There’s Ginny, or Seamus, or Colin, or the twins, or dozens of others who’d give me a go. They just wouldn’t know what they were doing, and you do. Well, except for the twins. But I don’t trust them to stick anything in _there._ ”

“And yet you trust _me_ to do so?” Snape rejoined, clearly flabbergasted.

“Well…yeah. You’re on my side; I know that. You may be a bastard, but you’ve never let him have me, and you could have done, I’m sure. So I guess I do trust you. I _want_ you,” he added earnestly. “Don’t say no. Come on, we’ve already done everything else. Is this going to make you regret it?”

Snape seemed to consider this. “No…” he sighed after a long while, and Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “But I’m glad you told me, all the same.”

“Why? What difference does it make?” Harry asked, genuinely confused.

“Your body gets used to certain things…it stretches…over time, and that makes it hurt less. The first time can be quite painful,” the man explained.

“Oh. It will?”

“No, it won’t. You aren’t listening.”

“Sure, I am! You said, it can be—”

“ _Can_ be, Potter, not _will_ be. I am a Potions Master, you simpleton. I can make cutting off one’s arm an enjoyable experience, if I have the right herbs in stock. This is nothing. But still, it’s better that I knew, or I might have damaged you.”

“So you’ll do it?” Harry asked.

“I suppose,” Snape replied in an indifferent tone, turning away. He made sure not to show his face, as the brat was already cocky enough, and the idea that Severus Snape fully relished the opportunity to lay first claim on the blighter would likely swell Harry’s head to bursting. “Although I _do_ find it highly inconvenient,” he hastened to add at the young man’s sigh of relief. “You stay here, and touch nothing, while I’ll go and get the draught that will make this painless…for _you_ , at any rate.”

“Great. Thanks” Harry replied softly, staring after the man. What an odd notion—that Severus didn’t want to hurt him. That he would _go out of his way_ to _keep_ from hurting him. He pondered the idea as the man fetched his potion, and found that the thought was rather… _arousing,_ in a decidedly peculiar, warm and fuzzy way.

When Severus returned, he found that damnable Potter creature on his hands and knees on the bed, butt wiggling provocatively. “See anything you like?” the boy asked with infuriating cheek.

Really, the youth could use some lessons in manners. “Nothing worth spending hard-earned money on,” the Potions Master taunted. Harry stuck out his lower lip in response, which was obviously meant to be provocative, as Severus had specifically mentioned finding it arousing. “On the other hand,” he continued, waving his wand and freezing the boy’s limbs in place, “It _is_ free for the taking, so I see no reason I shouldn’t take advantage.” He gave his wand another surreptitious flick, and Harry began dry fucking the air as the enchanted ribbon teased and twisted round his length.

“Free…for you,” Harry managed, devoutly wishing Snape would get on with things, rather than standing there with his eyebrow arched like he were judging a prize stud at a livestock show. “Anytime you want… _ever_ ,” he added with what breath he could manage. “God, aren’t you going to touch me? I _need_ it,” he insisted. “I need you to touch me, Severus.”

“Presumptuous wretch, aren’t you?” Snape replied, clearly unimpressed. He moved closer to the boy, unstoppering the bottle of potion, dipping a slender finger in, rubbing it between index and thumb. He pretended to eye it critically while Potter heaved and jerked in sexual need. “Something the matter, Potter?”

“Fuck…f—fucking _bastard,_ ” Harry growled. “Can’t. Believe. Nngh. _Please_ , damn it! Now, please, now. You. Jesus, please…neednowin… _please_ ,” he babbled, as that Snape dropped to his knees and pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other, then began running his tongue all around his opening, pausing occasionally to lap the skin there gently.

Snape pressed the very tip of his tongue into the youth, and then withdrew it slowly. “Why, Potter. Are you _begging_ me?” he asked with an air of great surprise. This brought another onslaught of wanton rambling, only a few words of which such as ‘cock’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ and _‘fuck’_ could be understood. Unimaginably self-satisfied, Severus leaned forward and pushed the wet muscle in as far as it would go, wriggling it around inside his student. He was more than a little gratified when the boy hissed his name, gyrating his hips to get more of that hot, slick tongue inside of him.

When the boy was nearly a puddle, Severus sat back and slipped the tip of his finger inside Harry’s opening. This produced a lovely mewling noise from that milky throat, and he slid the digit in up to the first knuckle, and began finger fucking the boy in earnest. When he bent it slightly and found Harry’s prostate, the act was greeted with screeches and yowls of bliss, and he decided it was likely safe to add another finger.

Harry was beyond pleasure, and watching it from somewhere on the other side. He had never _dreamt_ anything could feel as good as Snape’s slick fingers thrusting into his arse, while that devilish device wound round his prick did magic that bordered on sin. He was only marginally aware that he was bucking back against those masterful fingers greedily, and his mouth, now on automatic, pleaded shamelessly for more. When Severus’s other hand smoothed flaming skin on Harry’s eager arse, he was nearly certain he would burst into tears from the sheer overload of pleasant sensation.

Slightly tired of the youth’s non-stop rambling, Severus covered Harry’s mouth with his free hand, and was not terribly shocked to find that succulent orifice opening as well, sucking insatiably at his fingers. He fed the young man three, to match the complimentary amount up his arse, and decided this had all gone on quite long enough. He needed to fuck the boy, like _yesterday._ He leaned over and began whispering lecherous things in Harry’s ear, distracting him from the fingers currently leaving position and the hard cock taking their place.

“You just love this, don’t you, my little toy? All tied up and taken advantage of, just like you were meant to be. Forget _free_ , my sweet pet; at this point, you’d gladly pay _me_ to induce me to fuck you this way.” Harry whimpered and nodded in accord, causing Severus to give a breathy laugh. He slid his entire length into the hot channel, one hand carefully on the youth’s hip. “And what is this worth to you, Harry? What would you give me for _this_?” He accentuated the word by pulling back and thrusting in roughly, causing his mount to cry out in pleasure. “Oh, yes. You like this, don’t you? Perfect little angel, so beautiful, so utterly corruptible, perfect and pure and _mine_ ,” he snarled, and pulled his fingers from Harry’s lips, lifting his hand to grip the boy’s hair.

Snape was now driving in with such force that Harry’s body rocked, but there was no pain. There was slight discomfort, but it was easily overcome by the delicious waves of heaven that radiated from each violent slam that hit his prostate, and the absolute pleasure that wonderful ribbon was producing. “Yes, Severus, _yes_ ,” Harry found himself panting. “It’s so good, God, good, yesmoreGodmore…harder, oh God, _fuck harder yes!_ ” He was ramming himself back on the man’s cock, wanting it all, as deeply as possible, wanting to feel it slide all the way through him, up his throat, to taste it on his tongue again. “Fuck, yes, I’d pay you,” he was admitting brazenly, as the hand that gripped his hair tightened, pulling him back onto that punishing, battering appendage, so large and swollen and _so, so perfect inside me_ , he whispered in his head. “I would—I would—yes more—I’d give you anything—God anything—for this—Oh yes _God fuck! Fasteryeshardermore!_ ”

Severus was pistoning his hips, still groaning filthy gibberish at the boy, riding that succulent young body as though it was his last chance on earth. The youth could clearly give as well as he could take, and was doing a marvellous job of meeting Severus’s thrusts at least halfway. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling himself teetering on the edge, “I love your tight little arse as much as your sweet little mouth.” Harry gave a howl of pleasure, and Severus reached around to his straining cock, pumping it smoothly, until they were suddenly coming in near unison, Harry’s seed once more fountaining over his hand, surging across the bed.

When Harry began floating down from the high, he was surprised and thrilled by the spurts of wet heat still gushing into his body, trickling out and down his thigh. Snape was giving huge, heaving gasps, still finishing his own climax.

Snape removed the spell that had conjured the manacles and ribbons, and finally collapsed on top of Harry.

“Ooomph,” the youth commented. “Gerroff. You’re too heavy to be sprawled on top of me like that.” He shoved the man away and sat up. “And what happened to the ribbon?”

“I cast it back into the infernal pit of hell from whence it came,” Severus retorted tiredly. “Why?”

Harry looked sheepish. “I sort of wanted to keep it. You know; like to remember.”

Snape stared at him. “It was covered with your semen, you little twit. You surely wouldn’t have really wanted to save the disgusting thing?”

Harry blushed. “I could’ve washed it off. Or something.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I’ll conjure you another when I’ve the energy. Although you _are_ a sentimental twat.”

“Yes,” Harry replied, smiling when the man had shut his eyes again. Harry’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” he stated unnecessarily.

“And after I fed you swaths of caramel, not to mention my cock,” Snape said dryly.

Harry bit his lip. “Man cannot live on cock alone.”

“Aren’t we feeling philosophical?”

Harry rolled onto his side and looked at the man. “I’d like to stay here tonight, if you’ll let me. If anyone asks, I can tell them I had a nightmare, and came to…steal some dreamless sleep potion or something.”

“That is _not_ a good idea, Potter.” Severus levered himself up on an elbow, meeting determined green eyes. “Do you want to get me sacked?”

“And fucking a student _without_ sleeping with him wouldn’t achieve that?” Harry glowered.

The boy had a point. “I don’t want you here. You’re irritating, and you take up too much room. You’re also extremely recalcitrant, and disobedient, and disrespectful. I dislike you immensely. Now go away. 

Harry set his jaw. “ _No_. And if you don’t let me stay, I’m going to chain _myself_ to the bed, and have a sit in.”

“A what?” Snape blinked.

“It’s what Muggles do when the government won’t listen to them. They chain themselves to something and have a sit in. So that’s what I’ll do; I’ll chain myself to the poster of your bed, and refuse to leave until you’ve met my demands.”

“Which are?”

“For you to bugger me whenever I want, and for dinner tonight—which is the least you can do, you’re traditionally supposed to buy me dinner _before_ I let you fuck me—and to sleep down here tonight.” He scooted up the bed to sit beside Severus, folding his arms behind his head and generally making himself at home.

“In the first place, it’s hardly my fault that you’re a randy little sod that let me bugger you for nothing. In the second place, I’m going to be buggering you whenever _I_ want, regardless of your own appetites. And in the _third_ place…I suppose one night wouldn’t kill me, although I shan’t enjoy finding out for certain. But _only_ one night, mind you. Just because I’ve tied you to my bed once does not indicate I’m looking for a permanent ball and chain.” Severus felt uneasy at the devious little smile that quirked Potter’s lips.

_‘Who, me?’_ it clearly said, but Harry merely replied, “Whatever you want, Severus. Whatever you want.”

The Potions Master rolled his eyes, knowing that they had reached a stalemate _if he was lucky_ , and that the war continued to be fought. “Call for a ruddy house elf and get something to eat,” he ordered. “You’ll need your strength, Harry, should I happen to wake in the middle of the night.”

Harry laughed loudly. “You love me, you know,” he said with sparkling certainty.

Severus lifted his lip in a semblance of disgust. “I most certainly do _not_ ,” he replied with dignity. “You’re an arrogant prat—and a burden besides.” But he watched with appreciation as Harry bent over the fire to call for a house elf. It might be fun to have a prat around for a while…and he could always use someone to snipe at. And…there were other benefits to having the monster around, as well. It could be a great deal of fun. He cunningly fashioned another magical manacle under the blankets as he waited for Harry to return to the bed. After all, if the boy wanted to be a ball and chain, he ought to at least dress the part.


End file.
